Island Stories
by Matilda384
Summary: Ever wondered what happened on the island with all the choirboys? In this collection of stories, you'll see Lord of the Flies in a different perspective - as well as new behind-the-main-storyline experiences ranging from sweet to sad to hilarious. It's set up just like Choir Stories, except the setting this time is the island! I hope you like it!
1. Boarding

**I got an amazing request from_ Kur8Kami117_ to write this, and I must say I'm excited for it! I don't quite know how often I'll update it though, but it will be on the quicker side - - I promise! By the way, this story does NOT mean that I will be discontinuing Choir Stories. I'll just be doing both! :) This is a collection of little stories that the book doesn't go into while the boys are on the island. I really hope you like it. Please let me know how I'm doing because your feedback is so important to me! Also, I love hearing story ideas and suggestions. If there's anything you want to read or see happen, let me know and I'll include it! Thank you for reading this and supporting Choir Stories. Both will update soon! :)**

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Jack clapped his hands to at least get his choir silent even thought the scene around them was absolutely chaotic. "Boys!" he shouted above the noise. The whole school had assembled in the gymnasium by classroom number. It was evacuation day. Each child was allowed to bring one suitcase onto the plane full of belongings they'd need. They were all going to a different country for a few weeks until the bombings of England died down - - it was too dangerous to keep young children around through such life-threatening conditions. The choirboys had tears in their eyes as they looked at their leader. Jack felt his eyes sting too. "Stop that, all of you." he commanded, trying to hide his own sadness. "We'll be back soon. There's nothing to cry about." Henry was the first to break into tears, as always. "I'll miss my mummy and daddy and puppy!" he sobbed. Everyone broke down after that. They all clung to each other, thinking about the lives they were leaving behind no matter how short the few weeks would be. The adults told them it would be a sort of 'vacation' - - it had seemed harmless just thinking about it, but actually leaving hurt so bad. Roger wrapped his arms around his stomach. He literally felt sick as he thought about what he was leaving behind and even more changes that he would have to face in the future. He prayed that no matter what, he and Simon would never be separated.

Jack wiped his face on his robe. "Stop that!" he commanded again. Maurice hugged Bill, wailing, "I want my mummy and daddy!" Bill agreed tearfully. Roger lurched forward as if he were going to throw up. Jack caught him, silently begging for nothing to happen. The dark-haired boy squeezed his eyes closed and let out a heartbreaking sob. Simon stepped forward. He rubbed the boy's back gently as tears slipped down his cheeks.

Harold scrubbed some tears off his face and straightened the hat and cloak Jack had required them to wear that day especially. "Well," he said, trying to put on a brave face. "We at least know that we've got each other, right? I mean, we've been through a lot together. What's to stop our great bond now?" Robert followed suit in drying his eyes. "I agree. It's not like we're all going to be separated. We'll probably just go to a boarding house for boys. Everyone will stay together. We're…we're a family." Jack reddened at the realization that he, the fearless leader, hadn't thought of all this himself. "Right, boys." he said, drawing the attention back to himself. "No matter what happens, we stick together. Do everything as a group. And you all listen to me, alright? Because I'll always keep us safe." The whole choir nodded obediently.

A man with a megaphone shouted out their group number. Jack held his hands out, beckoning for them to all link together. After a few seconds of just pure connection, he sighed. "Choir! In formation!" he shouted dutifully. The boys shuffled into their two lines quickly and held their heads high as they walked through the gym full of chattering boys from their school. Jack marched in front of them bravely, keeping a stern face to assert his dominance over all else. The boys were piled onto a bus with each with their one suitcase. The bus brought them to an airport. Once more, they marched proudly under the leadership of the head boy right onto a plane.

A plane they didn't know was destined for doom.


	2. Crash-Landing

**I'm super happy to see how you all are so excited about this! Yes, it will be written like Choir Stories and in the same universe-kinda thing. They are symbiotic, I suppose. They both give life to each other. Please et me know if there's anything you want to see next! It will move throughout the book, highlighting events and such but through the choir's eyes (and also some fluffy add-ins). Please keep enjoying it and I'll keep writing it! :)**

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Jack looked out the window for most of the plane ride, not sure about how he was feeling. He was upset about leaving behind his parents, his house, his little sister…but he also knew that even when they got to the home for boys, he'd be in complete charge of his choir. Even more so than he already was. His thoughts were disturbed when someone kicked the back of his seat. Then again. And again. Finally, he whirled around to see who was causing him so much annoyance. Maurice's eyes widened as he stopped his foot in mid-air for a fourth kick. "Oops," he said sheepishly, trying to smile even though the look on Jack's face instilled enough fear in him to make him never want to lift his foot again. "I thought…I thought Bill was sitting in front of me…I thought you were Bill." he explained rather nervously. Jack bit his lip as he shook his head menacingly. Maurice gave one of his famous anxious giggles.

Harold used a pen to draw a tic-tac-toe board on a napkin, preparing for a game with his friend Henry. "I'm the X." he informed. "You're the O." Henry crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "That's no fair!" he cried out.

"What's not fair about it?"

"I want to be the X!"

"Why does it matter who's X and who's O?"

"Well, an X marks a railroad, and I like trains! I want to have the X's!"

"Alright, alright. I'll be O. Now would you stop making such a fuss over it, you big crybaby?"

Harold did end up beating Henry in the first game, but a rematch immediately commenced, which led to another, and another, and another, and another, until there wasn't enough space for a new board on the napkin. A stewardess took notice of this, however, and brought the boys another.

Just before getting on the plane, Roger had taken his anxiety medication. He sat quietly between Jack and Simon. As his eyelids began to droop sleepily, Simon adjusted his shoulders so that he could rest his head on him and just fall asleep. He watched with a gentle smile upon his face as Roger did just that.

Suddenly, the whole plane gave a shudder. Maurice stopped poking Robert in the arm with the tip of a straw. Harold looked up from the game board. Roger raised his head from Simon's shoulder. Jack straightened to look above the rows of seats. Some of the littler boys on the plane began chattering and whispering about what they'd just felt. A stewardess hurried down the aisle to see what was going on in the cockpit.

Then the plane jolted facedown, almost vertical.

The stewardess who had been walking down the middle was suddenly throw backwards violently. Her head smacked against the overhead compartments. Simon screamed when he saw blood rush down her face, her body hit the floor. But he didn't have to look at it too long, because suddenly the plane was creaking and spiraling down towards the earth. Every single boy in the cabin was screaming in pure terror. Roger grasped onto both Simon and Jack. Henry flung his arms around Harold as tears washed over his cheeks. "JACK!" Bill shrieked. The leader was the only one they knew they could call to - - the adults were dead. Jack thought quickly. He stood on his knees on his seat to face everyone behind him. "Hands out on the seat in front of you! Head down!" he shouted as best he could. That sinking feeling that sets in when you're free-falling was beginning to overtake him. Thankfully, everyone in back of him managed to hear. The choirboys did as he said. Some of the younger boys didn't over their horrible shrieks…

A ripping, grinding, metallic sound pierced the air. Maurice looked out the window. He wasn't sure if they were falling through storm clouds or smoke, but the air was beginning to smell funny. Rain began to beat the windows. Through the grainy view, he swore he saw land beneath them. Everyone on the plane screamed when the whole front of the plane began to break away, falling nose-down as the tail end of the plane stayed horizontally falling. This was too much for Roger to handle seeing. He couldn't take anymore. He just wished the plane would hit the ground and just _kill him _already…

And it did just that. Nobody in the back end of the plane was killed, but the front part had splashed into the deeper part of the ocean, still with some kids strapped inside. Maurice gasped as the cylinder of metal crashed upon solid land hard. It shook every single bone inside of him. He didn't know he even had that many bones to shake. Silence. The only sound was sweeping winds and pelting rain hammering against the sides of the metal. Large waves began rocking the plane back and forth rather violently, threatening to drag it out from the surf into the open ocean. Where the other kids had gone. A multitude of seatbelts unclicking rang through the air. Everyone scrambled to get out of the wreckage as fast as they possibly could. Tons of children shoved and pushed and screamed and shouted as they all headed for the shredded opening.

Wind whipped them from all around as a huge storm rumbled in. Jack gathered his black-cloaked group together and bolted with them following him towards the tallest trees he could see. Several other schoolboys ran in all directions, seeking shelter in a strange new land. Lightning cracked through the air. Jack kept running into the forest of tropical underbrush until he couldn't feel raindrops attacking his skin anymore. He opened his arms as he crouched down under some big palm leaves. His choirboys hurriedly ran to him, huddling as close to him and each other as possible. The trees were so tall and so large that they blocked any rainfall. The boys squeezed water out of their caps and wrapped themselves in their robes. Nobody spoke. Roger cuddled closest to Jack, up against his chest on his right hand side. Simon clung to him. Maurice and Bill held each other. Henry cried while he and Robert stayed close to Jack's left side. Harold wrapped and arm around Bill and Simon, enclosing them in a circle. Maurice spoke first. "T-There were kids…still…" he shakily sputtered. Bill hushed him when he noticed how hard Roger was shaking. "What's going to happen to us, Merridew?" Harold asked. Jack stared at the ground, images flashing in his mind. "We stay together. No matter what. We're…a family." he repeated absently.


	3. Election

**Alright, make way for chapter three! I think after this chapter, I'll be deviating from the storyline only very slightly to put more events in between those stated in the book. By all means, I will stick to the actual Golding story. But I'll add in all the cute, fluffy, and funny stuff too. Let me know if things are holding your interest! And thank you for all of your amazing reviews. You make me so happy! :)**

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The storm quieted after a while, and before long it was sunny. Most of the choirboys had stayed huddled together. They'd either fallen asleep or taken to just lying there quietly and thinking about their situation. Where were they? Were there people around? They hadn't seen any buildings as they crash-landed. Was this a city? A countryside? Where on the map did this place lie? What happened to the plane?

What happened to the other kids?

Suddenly, there came a loud blasting noise far off in the distance. Roger jolted awake, shaking violently in Jack's arms. Jack lifted his head an opened his sleepy eyes. "A trumpet!" Bill shouted, already hopping to his feet. "A trumpet! A man is summoning us! We're going to be alright!" As soon as the thoughts processed in Jack's mind, he too jumped up. "Choir! In formation!" he shouted. They all began to talk excitedly and murmur about themselves. "We're saved!" Simon cheered gleefully. Jack marched them all across the beach, reminding them to lift their feet high so sand wouldn't get on the bottom of their cloaks. "We must look presentable for the man with the trumpet. He'll probably be the one to send us back home." he told them.

The sun beat down on the boys all clad in black. Maurice swiped some sweat off his brow. "I'm sweating like a pig, Merridew." he complained from somewhere in the middle. Harold pinched him. "You're not nearly as fat as a pig. Remember the ones we saw at the farm that time? They were all squishy with fat." he said. Maurice thought this over for a minute, then laughed despite the heat. Simon staggered a bit on his feet as they marched. Roger took his arm silently, staring at him with his intense gaze. "I'm alright, dear." Simon assured gently, stopping himself from gasping for air. Roger nodded and went back to walking quietly.

Jack noticed up ahead that there were bunches of children gathering near a palm tree that had a bending trunk. "There!" he shouted. They all marched in their formation towards this odd group. Jack's eyes hurt from squinting in the sun so much, and black spots were beginning to swarm his vision. "Choir! Halt!" he ordered when they approached the children. To avoid rubbing his eyes and looking young, the redhead took to blinking hard. "Where's the man with the trumpet?" he asked aloud. A tall boy with blonde hair hopped down off the leaning trunk. "There's no man with a trumpet." he said.

"Isn't there a man here?"

"No."

Jack's eyes were beginning to adjust to the shade. He noticed that all around him sat young children between the ages of six and thirteen. There really was no man. No man except for him. He wasn't sure what to say now - - especially after his choir had been so excited to hear that they were saved. He didn't have much time to say anything anyway, because behind him Simon tipped over and fainted onto the sand. Roger was first to kneel down. He grabbed the boy's wrists and pointed at Maurice to take the ankles. The choir broke out into worry. Usually when Simon fainted at home, he'd wake up within a few minutes and be alright. But suddenly in this strange land, they felt like anything that happened to him would be their responsibility.

Bill and Henry put their hands under Simon's back to support his limp body. "Take him out of the sun! Put him in the shade over there!" Robert told them. The boys began moving to an empty patch of coolness amongst the young ones. Now they were all flustered too. Most had never seen a boy just drop like that. But to the choir, it was regular thing. "Let him alone!" Jack snapped when a child went over to Simon's unconscious body and poked his side. The little one backed off immediately after Jack barked at him. "He'll be alright." Jack addressed everyone. "Simon's always throwing a faint!" The boys all took a seat around the sleeping boy, Roger staying closest.

Suddenly, his heart stopped. A fat kid wandered out of the crowd to stand near the blonde boy. Roger narrowed his eyes. He _knew_ him. Jack towered over them, being tallest, and asked what they were going to do. The moment the fatty opened his mouth to start repeating names he'd learned, Roger felt his fists clench. He _knew_ him. This was the kid that had teased him one time. He'd made a scene. Roger had lost it on him, threatening to kill him and destroy him; then Jack came to his rescue and also began berating that pig. But presently the redhead didn't seem to recall the incident. Heck, Roger had been having so many outbursts lately, it was hard to keep track of them all. He wanted to get Jack in private to tell him. Yet he was preoccupied with more important things.

The fat kid asked each choirboy for his name. While they all proudly stated it, feeling the little ones' gazes stuck upon them in awe, Roger didn't even want to answer to him. He turned his head when it was his time to speak. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Jack cleared his throat as Bill nudged his arm. When Roger looked up, Jack was glaring at him. He muttered that his name was Roger and immediately pulled his cloak around him tighter.

When Simon woke up, he felt a little dizzy. But it quickly dispelled once he registered Roger's hand gently brushing against him over and over. He heard the blonde boy say his name was Ralph. Simon smiled absently. To him, it sounded like a very kind name. Maybe waiting for rescue won't be so bad, he thought easily. If everyone gets along and works together, we'll be just fine. He cringed when he heard Jack call the large child "fatty". As the other boys laughed, he looked around at all of them in shock. How could they be teasing someone they'd just met. Then Ralph called him "Piggy".

It hurt Simon's heart to see such a good-natured person stoop for a moment. He wanted to stand up and go comfort Piggy when he tried to hide behind a thin palm trunk that only called more attention to his incredibly large size. Maurice was almost exploding with laughter. He held up his hands to address everyone and pointed at the tree trunk. "Hey!" he shouted sarcastically. "Where'd he go? I don't see him anymore!" The boys cackled even harder.

Ralph proposed that they choose a leader so that everything could go more orderly. Bill put his hand up. "Can I be chief, Jack?" he called out. Robert laughed at him. "You can't even tie your shoes! And you expect us to nominate you for a leader?" Jack looked around at everyone. He felt power begin to course through his veins as he thought about how much bigger, stronger, and talented he was compared to them all. "I ought to be chief," he said aloud. "I'm chapter chorister and head boy!" Ralph put his hands up. He wanted to be chief too. Both boys took a moment to stare at each other. Roger could sense that tension was clouding the air, and since he'd had enough of that at home, he wanted to be the one in control of stopping it. "Let's have a vote!" he announced, winning much support. "Who wants Jack to be chief?" Ralph asked them. The choir begrudgingly raised their hands. It wasn't that they didn't want Jack to be their leader, but they knew how he was when he was in power. And stressed. The combination was absolutely a mess. But something even worse happened. Ralph was elected chief. While the young boys cheered and clapped for their candidate, the choir gathered together to figure out a way to console the loser. Their loser.

Ralph decided that it would be best to let Jack have some control, so he asked him what he wanted the choirboys be. "Soldiers, Jack!" Harold called out excitedly. "No! Have us be a parliament!" Robert suggested. Jack set his jaw, upset and embarrassed at this consolation prize. "Hunters," he stated. The choir of small boys looked up innocently, as if not understanding what that would specifically entail.

Ralph announced that he and Jack would go up to the top of the nearby mountain to look for civilization. When they called upon Simon to follow them, a well of emotions sprang up inside Roger. Why did they want him? What were they going to do? Would they kill him? What if they met trouble? He was about to protest. He really was. But as the three walked away, he felt someone shove a whole handful of sand into his face. Some even got in his mouth. Henry laughed. "I got you!" he sing-songed.

"Don't do that!" Roger barked.

"Why? There aren't any grownups here to stop me!"

Harold tossed a sand-ball at Bill. "No throwing sand!" a little one whined. Roger swiped some grains out of his mouth and eyes, taking a moment to harshly glare at the childish classmate that had attacked him without warning. _I'll get you,_ he thought. _There aren't any grownups here to stop me._

Maurice took to making a small snowman, but out of sand. He used some little pebbles to even make a face, two little sticks for arms, and a leaf to resemble a tie. Robert knelt down to take a look at it. "Maurice?" he began.

"Yes, Robert?" he replied.

"That looks about as good as your drawings at home."

"It's that amazing?"

"…I don't know which is worse."

Not liking that response (but of course not taking it personally), Maurice leapt up and began chasing Robert all around the beach, threatening to dunk him in the water and leaving him to explain his soiled clothes to Jack Merridew. While the other three went exploring, the rest of the choir played in the sand, ran around, and had an overall good time. The sweet feeling of freedom from a close parental eye allowed them to open up and just as like the young boys they were.

They didn't even entertain the thought in their minds that they could be stranded on an uncharted island without any hope of rescue.


	4. The Spark Ignites

**Thank you all for the wonderful comments and support! You make me want to just write forever! Please enjoy this chapter! :)**

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It was decided that they all were indeed stranded upon an island with no hope of being rescued, so Ralph proposed the notion of having a fire being lit constantly. This would, in theory, attract any passing ships or planes towards the island and therefore lead to rescue. It made sense to Bill. But he didn't like how much work it entailed. Keeping a fire going all the time? That took quite a large amount of effort! Jack captured everyone's attention by yelling out, "I'll divide up my choir - - my hunters, that is, and we'll be in charge of keeping the fire going!" All of the boys cheered at his comment, except for Bill, who tossed his head back and let out a loud groan.

Before they knew it, a mass of hollering little boys were clamoring up the mountainside to find a good place for the fire. Jack shouted orders at everyone. His plan was to seem like a stronger leader to sort of push Ralph out of the picture. Not entirely, of course. But just in a way that would make all the younger children sorry that they didn't choose him as their leader to begin with. "Robert! You and Harold find a big log and carry it over here since you're the strongest two! Bill, gather ups some dry brush! Simon…wait why is Roger wandering around in circles like he's lost? Simon, go help him or something! Henry, you and Maurice need to find some sticks to light the fire!" he commanded. It would've been successful, if only his choirboys weren't so incredibly excited about absolutely everything at the present moment. Maurice and Henry ended up playing swordfight with two sticks they'd found. Jack crossed his arms after confiscating Maurice's when he smacked Henry over the head with it. "I expected you to bring at least fifteen sticks over. You brought two." he said. Maurice gave a nervous giggle as Henry shrugged.

The boys created a big stack of wood and stood in a circle around it. "Now what?" Harold asked aloud.

"Does anyone know how to start a fire?" Bill remarked.

"You rub two sticks together! You rub two sticks…" Maurice tried to explain thoughtfully, but lost it after attempting to think it through.

"You make a bow and arrow…" Roger snarled, staring coldly at Piggy for a reason.

"Anyone got any matches?" Henry asked.

"Piggy's specs!" Jack shouted, lunging at the fat boy. He grasped the metal frames in his hands and shoved him when he was finished. Jack knelt before the heap of wood and positioned the glasses so a small beam of light shone on one of Maurice's sticks.

Robert pointed at the small circle of white light. "Like when we used to burn those ants on the sidewalk at home," he whispered to Henry. An eerie silence fell amongst all the boys as if they were just waiting…_waiting_ for something to happen…

A small orange flame stood up proudly on the wood. Everyone began to cheer. Within literally no time at all, the flame multiplied in size and began to envelop a whole section of the mountain of wood. Roger put his hands over his face and jumped behind Simon. He hated fire. Hated it, hated it, hated it. His brother took a pause from clapping to gently wrap his arms around Roger's slight frame. "It's for a good cause," he reminded quietly. "We're doing good, You're doing good." Roger sniffled and wiped his eyes. He glanced back behind him at Piggy, who was now adjusting the spectacles back on his face. Roger only held onto Simon tighter.

The fire began getting out of control. It tumbled off the stick pile down the side of the big mountain, leaving a trail of blackened ash in its path. The cheering and dancing stopped. "Whoa," Maurice breathed. "I sure wouldn't have wanted to be in that thing's line of _fire!_" Slowly, the others started to laugh. "We're all here, right?" Simon asked. Nobody seemed to hear him. The boys played near the fire for a bit longer, then decided to head back down to the beach. The sun was already beginning to set. "I'm hungry!" Henry whined, tugging on Jack's sleeve. Jack sighed. "Alright, alright. I want Bill, Harold, and Robert to stay at the fire for the night shift. I'll send someone up with food for you later. But until another trio comes to replace you, don't leave this spot. Understood?" he ordered. The three in charge of the fire simultaneously stamped one foot on the ground just like at school. "Sir, yes, sir!" they shouted in response. Jack nodded and followed the others down the scorched side of the mountain.

Dinner wasn't anything all too amazing. Some fruit (which turned out to be a little unripe, thanks to the blatantly disgusting announcement of the effects of this from Maurice) was passed around, and coconut milk served as a bit of calcium nutrition. The group of stranded boys ate together in a circle, sharing when necessary. Simon couldn't coax Roger into eating much. He tried and tried, even offered to mush the fruit up a bit so he could eat it easier - - but the mysterious boys just refused. Simon gave up and just patted his hand. Jack slid beside Roger and held a mango-looking fruit out to him. Again, a negative. "What's the matter, Roge?" the redhead asked quietly so as not to call attention to him. The boy looked off into the distance. "My medication…went down with the plane…" he said shakily. Jack just nodded. He wasn't sure of what Roger's behavior would be exactly without this new medication. He just knew from before that it had calmed his anxieties a bit. Roger blinked his eyes hard every now and then; his nervous tic had returned. Jack moved back over to his original spot, sighing behind a shell of coconut milk. The situation was already beginning to look a little rough.

And if things couldn't get any worse, somebody brought up that they hadn't seen the little boy with the mulberry birthmark on his cheek for a long time.


	5. Stow-Away

**This was a request from _Kur8Kami117_. It was so much fun to write! Thank you! I hope you guys are enjoying this so far. Let me know if there's anything you want to see happen to the boys! They send their love from the island :)**

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Maurice sat at the base of a tall palm tree, happily shelling a few nuts he'd just gathered. He held a rather large one in his hand. After not being able to break the shell for too long, he became impatient. He bashed it against a rock until he heard the crack! he was waiting for. Pleased with his reward, he popped the insides into his mouth.

Maurice knew that he was technically supposed to be helping everyone build shelters down on the beach, but once he saw some littluns leaving, he figured he could get away with it too. So there he sat, relaxing and enjoying the nuts from the tree, and just overall pleased with life. He wasn't concerned about getting rescued - - he knew they eventually would, but didn't see any point in rushing. By all means he wanted to go home, but typical Maurice was content just about anywhere.

Suddenly, he heard someone scurrying into the forest near him. He squinted to see if he could make out a figure. Henry bounded over to him and crouched behind his back. "What on earth - - " Maurice began, but Henry silenced him with a loud "Shhhhhh!" A few seconds of silence passed. "I'm hiding from them," Henry whispered.

"From who?"

"The bloody littluns! They found my…my secret stash."

"Your secret stash?"

"Yes, yes! I tried to keep it hidden, but one must've fallen out of my pocket and now they all want some!"

"What are you hiding?"

"…You can't tell anyone, alright? But I managed to stuff some candies into my pockets before we got on the plane. Now I have them all, but I don't want to share!"

The sound of pattering little feet scattered through the jungle. Henry flinched. Maurice just stared at him for a long time. Suddenly he broke out into a large grin. "So, who's your best friend? Remember all those times I'd reach a book in the library for you? Or when I stole Robert's peanut butter and jelly sandwich for you, and replaced it with your own because he had a better flavor of jelly?" he asked sweetly. Henry glared at him suspiciously. "You're trying to trick me!" he shouted, hopping to his feet. Maurice jumped up too when the candy-boy started running away. He chased after him. "YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW AND SHARE WITH ME!" he hollered through the trees.

**X x X**

Simon wiped his brow after pushing a tall wooden beam up and securing it in place. Every so often as he worked on the shelters with Ralph, he'd glance over to his left and check on Roger. The silky-haired boy just sort of sat there in the sand cross-legged, staring at nothing. He wouldn't speak. He just sat. Simon helped Ralph carry a large palm leaf to drape across the wooden structure as a roof. "Looks good," he commented. But Ralph wasn't satisfied. "We've been working for two days and we only have two built. That's pitiful!" he cried out. He threw himself onto the sand, so Simon sat down with him. "Nobody helps," Ralph went on. "Everyone wants to be rescued, but nobody wants to initiate that. Like that boy over there - - he doesn't do a bloody thing! Yet he just sits there like he's stupid or something." Simon didn't respond to that comment, because he saw Roger just slightly turn his head to see who was berating him. The cold gray eyes focused on Ralph.

Simon didn't want to see any more tension. "How about we go for a swim, and then we'll come back and look at the shelters in a new light. Everything looks better after a break." he suggested gently. Ralph nodded and sighed. The two stood up to climb to the bathing pool.

**X x X**

Maurice hopped over a fallen log and ducked before a low-hanging branch nearly decapitated him. "HENRY!" he shouted. The boy wasn't too far ahead - - almost near the edge of the jungle. As Maurice's bare toes hit the sand he was used to, he was able to gain speed. "I'LL GET YOU!" he threatened, although he meant it playfully.

Henry tore across the beach, hearing a crowd of littluns approaching him from the left side, and Maurice gaining on his from behind. He saw the shelters coming up ahead. If I wind through them, he thought. I might be able to trick the others into thinking I went a different way! Instantly, he began weaving between the two shelters sharply to disorient the pursuers behind him.

Suddenly, he had to halt. He hadn't been paying attention to the front of him, and therefore hadn't seen that Roger was sitting near a shelter, making a little structure in the sand. Henry immediately hit the brakes, but couldn't stop in time. He tumbled over the little sandcastle (although it really just looked like a pile of dirt with a leaf sticking out the top to serve as a flag) and crashed directly on top of the boy. His chasers didn't stop though. He tried to untangled his limbs from Roger's as quickly as possible, bolting away without any breath to apologize. Roger sat up, rubbing his head, and watched as Henry just left the scene. He was really starting not to like that kid. Even at home they hadn't gotten along too well. But being separated from society was only making things worse.

Maurice skidded to a stop in front of the sandy boy and the now destroyed little Roger-Kingdom. "Henry must've come this way!" he concurred, instantly taking off again. Roger just watched him go. He thought for sure his former friend would offer to help rebuild his kingdom. But no. He was alone. He scooped up two handfuls of sand to begin creating a new dirt mound, but instead just let the grains slip through his fingers. Just like his sanity.

Henry was winded after running so much. His pace slowed down, but the ever-energetic littluns didn't. All at once they pounced on him, bringing him down and tearing at his pockets. "Stop! Save some for me! That's mine!" he shouted over their eager screams of delight. Maurice caught up. He also pounced on the kill with the littluns. He and the others were all scrounging so much, they accidentally ripped a hole right through Henry's pocket.

Suddenly everything stopped when a throat cleared from behind them. Jack stood, hands on his hips, eyebrows arched in confusion. All the littluns backed away with their handfuls of treasure, then scurried away to feast. Maurice fled just as quickly. Henry laid there in the sand, staring up at the blueness of the sky. "I've been robbed, Merridew." he muttered despondently. Jack clicked his tongue. Before he could say even a word, Henry put a hand up. "Don't even say 'I told you so'."

"But…in all fairness…I did tell you not to bring any sweets with you on the plane." Jack answered.

"Just don't go there with me, Merridew. I've had a rough day."

"…But we just woke up a few hours ago."

Henry didn't get a single scrap of his candy. Although he was disappointed, he didn't want to fight too hard for it. He was already tired. Instead he decided to go for a walk on the beach. A walk that would pass by a stealthily hidden little boy armed with rocks and a growing desire for revenge…


	6. Skipping Rocks

**As requested by _Kur8Kami117_ :) I hope you all are enjoying this so far. And if it feels like it's lagging too much, don't worry - - we're getting into the real storyline here, so there's more room for all the fun stories promised! Please enjoy this one, and feel free to leave requests!**

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Roger realized he'd been waiting for nearly a half-an-hour, just watching the three move along the sand. He bent down to pick up a rock. Just as Henry scooped up a little crab and pretended to chase the others with it, Roger hurled a rock directly at him. It struck his shoulder. Robert and Bill froze. "What was that?!" Bill whispered fearfully. "I didn't throw anything. You saw my hands - - they were right here the whole time!" Robert injected, earning agreement from his friends. They looked around. Roger ducked behind a tree, pressing his back against the wood. He waited until he heard Bill and Robert begin to scurry away, yelling, "There must be ghosts on this island!". Henry shouted a plea for them to wait for him, but they didn't.

So Roger threw another rock at him.

Henry started to cry from being afraid and alone. "Jack!" he wailed. "Help me! I'm _scared!_" As he sat down in the sand and just bawled his eyes out like the baby he usually was, Roger held another rock ready to throw. He cocked his arm back. Suddenly, something grabbed his wrist tightly before he could release his weapon. He gasped and whirled around. Simon was the one who'd stopped him. His eyes were fearful and sad upon finding his friend doing such a deed.

Roger's heart panged with embarrassment. He didn't want Simon to see him like this. Instead of crying or running away from him though, Simon gently removed the rock from his hand. He guided Roger over to a sea inlet not far from his place in the bushes. They sat down. After a long silence, Simon sighed. "I don't blame you for throwing them." he said softly. "I know how frustrated you're feeling. I know doing this helps you let it all out."

"…I don't exist…"

"What do you mean?"

"…You always help Ralph. The other choirboys don't like me. The littluns are afraid of me. Jack…Jack is too busy to be with me. I can't…can't grab anyone's attention to ask for help…"

Simon showed Roger the rock he'd taken from him. "Watch this," he said. He cocked his arm back, then released it, sending the rock skipping across the water. "It's much more fun to do this." he explained, hoping to entice the boy. He selected another rock from the grass. Again, he demonstrated how to skip it across the water surface. "Make sure it's a smooth one," he advised when Roger reached for one himself. The silky-haired boy watched one more time as Simon exampled, then he followed his actions precisely. The rock bounced off the surface twice. "Good job!" Simon complimented sweetly. Roger grinned. The two skipped a few more rocks, counting how many times they could bounce them and set a personal record.

Simon wanted to hold onto this moment for as long as he could. He knew Roger wasn't the same as he had been back home. And he knew that the boy was just longing for someone to give him the attention he needed in order to maintain some state of sanity. Without being able to talk openly to someone (like he was able to with Simon's parents, the doctor, or the psychiatrist), he was beginning to feel abandoned again.

Roger never reacted well after being abandoned.

Simon made a mental note that he'd talk to Jack about spending a little more time with the boy, considering he could really himself because Ralph needed all the assistance he could get. Roger giggled when his throwing-stone bounced off a protruding boulder and made a _click!_. Simon gently brushed his arm, reminding him that he'd never be alone. All Roger could do was lower his head in shame of his previous actions, and the unanticipated reward of kindness.


	7. Petting Zoo

**Sorry my updates have been taking a bit longer - - things have been pretty busy! I'd just like to thank _Kur8Kami117_ for this really funny idea! I hope you all like it! Thank you so much for you support of not only this story, but really anyhting that I've written! I love your feedback and your ideas so much. The boys want to send hugs from the island, but they said they don't have any stamps and there isn't a postman... ;)**

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Jack paced nervously about the campsite, thinking hard about something. Maurice looked up from the coconut he was trying to break open. "I thought we agreed that if you had to go, it should be done by the rocks farther back there." he said loudly. Jack paused to look at him questioningly. "You're doing the dance." Maurice hinted, his leader still not understanding. He sighed. "If you have to go to the bathroom, we said it had to be done away from camp." he explained. Jack rolled his eyes. "I don't have to! I was just thinking about something, you twit!" he snapped. Roger was sitting close by, just watching the water. He looked up at Jack, wordlessly asking with his eyes what he was pondering so hard. "I'm thinking about the piglet I saw when I explored this place with Ralph and Simon." the redhead said aloud. Roger nodded gravely. Simon giggled from where he was fixing up the roof of a shelter. "It was so cute!" he added. "All pink and tiny! Just like one you'd see on a farm back home!" The boys smiled as they thought about what a baby pig looked like. Jack suddenly didn't have the heart to detail what he was considering doing with the piglet. He just walked off into the woods to see if he could find a larger pig for his plan. Maurice watched him go. "I knew he had to go to the bathroom." he muttered.

Some of the choirboys decided to go for a walk that morning too. They trailed along the beach, but once the sun's rays picked up intensity, it go too hot to be in its direct path. They diverged into the jungle to look for something interesting to play with. Maurice, Bill, Robert, and Harold continued on farther, but Henry cried and returned back to camp after he stepped on an unstable log and it rolled him onto his rump.

Maurice tugged at his ragged shirt that was beginning to itch him the stiffer it got with salt. With a frustrated sigh, he tore it off and cast it on a rock. Standing tall and proud with his hands on his hips, he announced, "I'm Maurice of the jungle! Free to do what I want, when I want!" His companions laughed at him. He was by no means tough-looking or muscular. Due to his high amounts of energy nearly bursting at the seams to erupt, he was fairly thin and rather bony as his body hadn't reached its peak transformation time. Through the giggles as Maurice dramatically switched between poses, Bill suddenly gasped. The hyper boy looked at him. "Oh come now, Bill. There's no need to stare _that_ hard. Am I really that handsome?" he asked. But Bill pointed off into the distance. Robert squinted. "Hey, look!" he whispered. The four crept closer to where their interests held them.

Under some brush lay a mother pig with about ten baby piglets.

The four looked at each other with big smiles spread across this faces. "Awwwwwww!" they all cried at once. All eleven pigs were sleeping, so they snuck around back to pet the babies gently. "So soft," Harold commented. "This one's the runt - - it's smaller than the others." Robert educated. Some of the babies squealed a bit, not accustomed to the foreign touches, but not yet brave enough to run away from their mother. "I wish everyone back at camp could experience this too…" Maurice sighed dreamily. Bill suddenly snapped his fingers. "I know! We can let them! See those big rocks over there? If we roll enough over to enclose all the piglets in here, then we could bring everyone over to see them and they won't escape!"

"That's brilliant! But what if the mummy pig gets upset?" Harold asked.

"We'll have to scare her away. But the babies will still be alright. Once everyone's got a look at them, then we'll move the rocks again so the family can all be together again."

"Like a petting zoo!" Maurice exclaimed.

"That's right - - a petting zoo! Let's get to work now!"

The four boys carried big rocks over and formed a circular pen in which the piglets stayed. Bill's only real accident was when he rolled a rock onto his big toe and had to take a short break to hold back tears. Other than that, the process was quick and effective. "Maurice! You're good at upsetting Jack - - go annoy the mummy pig away." Robert ordered. Pleased with the 'compliment' Maurice skipped over to the awakened pig and poked its shoulder. Grunting and squealing, the pig moved away, so Maurice chased it out of the pen just before the final rock was rolled into place. The four boys cheered. "Let's go get the others!" Harold suggested. Bill stayed back with his injured toe to make sure no piglets escaped in the time it would take them to return.

Maurice, Harold, and Robert managed to lead all of the littluns (plus Roger and Simon) into the woods as one mass group. "Come to the piglet petting zoo!" Maurice chanted as they made their way across the tropical terrain. The small boys were beyond excited to go to this 'zoo' and see the cute little animals they were expecting. When they first saw the ten piglets, they were overcome with joy. However, the little pink animals were not pleased to be separated from their mother, so they were squealing and crying as they hobbled around in search of her. Some small boys immediately climbed over the rocks to get into the pen. They sat down, taking the small animals into their arms or petting them like puppies. The piglets seemed to like this - - receiving the same amount of closeness and attention as if it was their mother awarding them with it. They began to behave and actually cuddle up to the littluns.

At one point, a piglet wandered away from a blonde littlun to go sit beside a brunette littlun. The blonde crawled over and picked it up again. "Hey!" the brunette complained. "That one was mine!"

"I had it first!"

"It came to sit with me!"

"It doesn't like you!"

"Then why would it come to sit with me and not you, you stupid twit?!"

Stop! Give it back!"

"No! It's mine!"

The boys each had an end of the pig; one pulled its front legs, the other pulled its back legs. They argued and fought and pulled as the pig squealed in pain. Harold swooped over and took the piglet away from both of them. "No fighting!" he scolded. "Or you'll have to go to time out!"  
"But that piglet was mine!" the blonde wailed. Both boys were crying now. "It wanted to sit near me!" the brunette argued. Harold sighed. "Why don't you two sit together so that it can sit between you both, that way each of you can pet it at the same time?" After a moment of thought, the boys agreed that this would be alright. Harold put the pig in the middle of them and supervised how they handled it from then on.

Simon had the runt on his lap, stroking behind its ears. Roger sat across from him, showing no emotion. "Isn't it so cute?" Simon asked aloud as the piglet tried sucking on his index finger. His brother nodded. "Pet him," Simon said quietly. "He likes it. And I'm sure he'll like you." Roger reached out and caressed its back once. The piglet let out a small squeal and walked back and forth between the two a few times. Simon giggled.

Everyone had a lot of fun with the piglets in the petting zoo. That is, until the bushes rattled menacingly from behind. "Oh no…" Robert breathed. "I bet it's the mother pig coming back!" Harold surmised. The boys held their breaths in anxiety. Jack came out from the big leaves. Maurice let out a yelp. "Worse! It's the toughest boar there is!" The choirboys giggled at the joke, but Jack was far from pleased. "What on earth is going on here?" he asked. Little Percival raised his hand as he shifted a piglet that was in his arms. "The big boys brought us to a petting zoo!" he laughed.

"A…petting zoo?"

"See all the baby pigs? We're allowed to touch them!"

"Who did this?"

"Those four boys right there!"

Bill, Maurice, Harold, and Robert shrank back nervously when Jack turned an angry glare upon them. "And why weren't you helping me hunt them?" he asked. Bill nudged Harold to be the speaker. "Well…we…um…who wants to hunt piglets? Only adult pigs will fill us all up." he suggested, hoping this answer would appease the redhead. Maurice decided to help things. "Yeah, and these aren't any good because we let the mother free. So they're just too friendly now - - "

"You let _what_ go?!" Jack shouted. Robert slapped a hand to his own forehead as soon as Maurice even mentioned that there had been a bigger pig. "W-Well…we couldn't keep the mummy in here…because she'd just get mad that we were touching her babies…so…we…let her…free…" Bill explained. Jack threw his dull (and quite inexperienced) spear on the ground. "You four are the dumbest clucks I've ever handled!" he shouted in rage. He went on to lecture them about his hard work of trying to get them all meat and the difficulties of hunting in such rugged terrain. At the end of his rant, his face was bright red. He was panting. Percival held up his piglet to him. "I think you need to hug one. It makes everyone feel better." he offered. Jack sucked in a deep breath, picked up his spear, and calmly walked away from the area entirely.

Maurice looked at everyone's wide eyes sheepishly. "Well…petting zoo is closed now. Help us move the rocks away so the mummy pig can come back." he said. The littluns got up and began following orders without qualms - - something they were used to doing. Ralph and Piggy had apparently heard the screaming from Jack and made their way through the forest to see what was going on. Piggy pointed at the piglets once they'd met up with the others. "It's not good to keep animals in captivity." he stated. "They don't like it." Harold, embarrassed by his scolding, shoved him as he walked by. "Shut up," he muttered. Ralph sighed. "Why does Jack have to be all about hunting? Why can't the littluns just play with the piglets instead of turning into killing machines like he wants? You - - Bill! In which direction did Jack run off?"  
"He went over there," Bill said as he pointed to the thicket of leaves. Ralph began to march through it. "I'm going to give him a piece of mind that he's not even hunting for!" he planned angrily as he left.

The littluns went back to the beach to finish their sandcastles shortly after that. Maurice and his three accomplices stayed to watch the mother pig return to her babies like before. "It's been fun, guys." Bill said to the little animals as they resumed their cuddly position against the female.

"Hate to run off so soon," Harold commented.

"You've been a great audience," added Robert.

"So long for now," Maurice waved.

The boys walked away towards the huts on the beach. As they climbed through the brush, Maurice sighed. "Bill, you're a genius." he said. Bill raised an eyebrow. "You know, for coming up with that idea. The littluns loved it!" Proud of the compliment and his thinking, Bill grinned.

Somewhere off in the forest, two older boys could be heard arguing loudly over the importance of hunting, and instead of going to investigate, the four knew it would be better for them to just let the battling leaders to just hash it out for a while.


	8. Goodnight

**Just a quick little one :) I hope you all are enjoying these. Please let me know if I'm being too ambiguous, straying from the storyline too much, focusing too hard on just one character, etc etc etc. Your feedback is what makes this story! Also, I open to really any suggestions, so go ahead and leave something if you want! Don't be afraid or shy, really. I love all ideas. And if you don't want to leave it in a review, I'm totally fine with you private-messaging me! Please enjoy this chapter, and thank you as always for your love.**

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Jack stopped short to avoid walking directly into a littlun that was scurrying perpendicular to his path with an armful of leftover fruit. It was just after dinnertime. None of the littluns ever let any food go to waste, and often ended up squirreling their portions (and any extras) away in what they called "secret hiding places". In the event of an emergency need for a midnight snack, they could then dip into their stash without having to worry about anyone else discovering it. Jack sighed as he watched this particular littlun haul it across the beach to tend to his own 'secret hiding place'.

Even though he didn't want to admit it, he was tired. He decided to try a little hunting today, but the heat and the fruitless endeavors wore him out by suppertime. He made his way across the beach. Ralph was standing near the shelters—Piggy at his left, Simon at his right—shouting orders to the bustling littluns that didn't seem to want to go to bed so soon. Jack approached his new rival and put his hands on his hips. "We're all right here. You don't have to yell, you know." he irritably snapped. Ralph gestured with his hands. "I'm sorry that you can't control your own boys and leave me no choice but to yell." he replied with sarcasm. Jack looked over to where Ralph was pointing. Maurice and the choirboys were literally taking turns holding down their partner's head under the water until he smacked him to let him know to release the grasp. They'd switch places, then start over. Maurice was currently holding Bill's head under the water. He laughed and laughed so hard that he didn't realize Bill was swatting at him to let him come back up. With one loud _crack!_ Bill knocked Maurice in the jaw with such force that he actually knocked him onto his rump in the waves. Dazed for a moment, it didn't take the hyper boy to hop back up and duck his head under the water with pressure from Bill's arms.

Jack sighed and put a hand to his forehead. "It's not like it's an easy job to be me…" he muttered. Ralph snorted. "What, and you think being me is easy? You can't even handle the seven boys you have in your choir! Try dealing with them and about twenty littluns all at the same time!"

"At least I focus on the important things."

"Such as?"

"Getting us meat,"

"I believe getting rescued is far more important than eating something other than fruit."

"Well that's where you're wrong."

"Don't you tell me I'm wrong!"

"Should I lie and tell you you're right? No, I think you're doing a fine job with that anyway."

Jack swiftly turned his back to the blonde who was now fuming with rage. Roger stepped forward from his sitting place near the shoreline and touched his shoulder to Jack's upper arm. He could sense the argument was getting heated. Simon could as well. "Ralph," he timidly suggested. "Maybe we should just tell everyone about the sleeping arrangements now." The leader sighed and nodded. "I think that'd be best, Simon. Everyone! Listen up! Since I was the only one to actually create these shelters—granted they're not all even finished yet—it won't be so comfortable sleeping in them tonight. There aren't enough yet for all of us. Simon and I are only working as best we can. So tonight, there's four shelters, more coming within the next few days. I think the littluns should occupy most of them to prevent anyone catching a cold." Some of the smaller boys cheered. Piggy's hand flew into the air, begging for the conch. When he was granted the sacred shell, some choirboys booed him. Roger's heart stopped. Did they know? The fat kid silenced everyone and began to speak. "I think Ralph ought to sleep in a shelter too, since he's a good chief. I'd say we could fit about…mmm…maybe four people in each as of right now. And Ralph knows who's sleeping where, so listen up, all of ya!"

"As Piggy said," Ralph went on. "I'll be telling everyone where to lie down for the time being so none of the shelters collapse. So…Jack and I will be in the first hut, since we're the leaders, as well as Piggy and the straight-haired boy right there. What's your name?"

But Roger didn't answer. He heard the question clearly. He consciously _chose_ not to answer. There was no way he was going to be sleeping next to the fat kid he despised already. Jack nudged him gently. "Hey," he whispered gently. Roger shook his head. The redhead put his hands on his shoulders, trying to ease him from his angry stance. But nothing. Simon tapped Ralph's shoulder and beckoned for him to stoop so he could whisper in his ear. Ralph took the information in, nodding understandingly. "Alright, a change has been made. Jack and I will be in the first hut, along with _Simon_ and the straight-haired boy. Second hut will be Piggy, two littluns, and the blonde choirboy. Bill, that's your name, right? Third hut will have three littluns and…oh…you must be Maurice…" Jack faced Ralph. "If his mouth doesn't appear to shut or he's doing something utterly ridiculous, then yes, it's Maurice." he stated. Maurice waved to everyone and bowed as if he were proud with this introduction. "Fourth shelter," Ralph continued. "goes to three littluns and…Robert, right? You're Robert? Alright. Everyone else can go sleep under those big palm trees over there like we have been doing until more shelters are built. And may I remind you that you'd all have a safe place to sleep if you had volunteered to help us today."

As the boys moved to their designated areas, Henry crossed his arms and pouted. "No fair!" he shouted. "Bloody stupid Roger gets to sleep all comfy, and I have to sleep under a tree!" Jack and Roger both heard this, pausing to turn to him. "Perhaps if you had helped your precious leader, you'd have a place to sleep." Jack mockingly said. Henry stamped his foot in defeat. "I still don't think it's fair." he muttered. Jack stalked away to his hut, eager to lie down and actually get some sleep. But Roger lingered to approach Henry. He quickly whapped the top of Henry's head as he stared him down. "Hey!" Henry whined, rubbing the sore spot. Roger leaned in close, coldly gazing into the tear-filled eyes. "I am not worthless." he snarled. Henry stayed frozen, nodding only slightly to let him know he'd understood. Roger spun around and followed Jack towards the first hut.

Maurice groaned as he climbed into the small space. "You jumping monkeys need to settle down and shut up so I can get some sleep!" he ordered the 'not-tired' littluns surrounding him. Suddenly he gasped. _Oh God,_ he thought. _I sound like Jack…_ Bill settled in with the two littluns sleeping in his hut. He was rather scrunched against the wall, but not because of the two small bodies, but because of the one big one. "Move over, Fatty. You're squishing me." he grumbled. Piggy mumbled a bit in his grogginess and did his best to shift. Robert laid down after drawing lines in the sand around every littlun in his hut. "Nobody," he instructed. "is allowed to go past their lines. See how that's just enough room around everyone? That means that there's no reason for you to leave your personal space bubble and enter mine. Got it?" The smaller boys replied that the understood. Within five minutes, Robert felt a stray leg flop onto his stomach.

Ralph laid near the right wall, Jack on the left, with Simon and Roger splitting the middle. As they all settled in, Simon squeezed Roger's tiny hand gently. "Thank you," Roger whispered. Simon cocked his head. "For…you know…not letting me be with the bag of fat." the silk-haired boy explained. Simon understood then, giving a nod and a soft smile. "Anything, love." he said to his former brother. Roger turned over and faced Jack's chest. He snuggled in close, just wanting to feel warm again. Even back at home, he'd developed a sort of internal chill that failed to ease itself—it was almost like he felt feverish constantly. Jack recognized what Roger wanted and wrapped an arm around him protectively. "Better?" he whispered. Roger nodded. As the sun sank beneath the waters of this newfound tropical island, the boys began to drift off to sleep, feeling more like they were 'home' now than before the representative huts were built.

And things weren't looking good with this feeling of new permanence.


	9. The First Hunt

**Sorry for taking forever and a half to update! I just really want to make sure what I'm giving you is quality and worth your reading time. I hope you like this chapter. It has a lot in it, and the next will pick up where this one leaves off. I just didn't want to make it excruciatingly long. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know if you have any ideas and/or suggestions! Thank you for sticking with me. :)**

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The next morning went as usual—Ralph, Simon, a few littluns, and Piggy gathered fruit and nuts and dumped them into a big pile so that when the rest of the camp awoke, they could have a breakfast. Jack sat up sleepily. Rubbing his eyes, he looked down at Roger. The boy was snuggled up so close to him, hidden beneath an old choir robe they'd decided to use as blankets. He looked like he'd had a rough sleeping night. Jack gently eased the sleepily boy closer to the wall of the shelter—he was hungry, and feeling particularly grumpy towards Ralph for no particular reason. Perhaps all the snoring at night. He didn't know. Roger sighed a bit and huddled closer against the palm leaves. His feathery hair lay strewn across the pale face. Jack felt himself smile a bit as he took one more glance back.

Some of the littluns were already awake and munching on the breakfast pile. Jack sat down across from Ralph. "Morning," the blonde greeted. Jack reciprocated the greeting.

"How'd you sleep?" Ralph went on casually.

"Well, with all that racket coming from your throat, not as well as I'd like to have. How about you?"

"Come now, Jack. I'm sure I'm not the only person on this island that snores. And you're telling me you're not man enough to just block it out and sleep? The reason why you were awake so much was because whatever-his-name-is that sleeps next to you holds on like you're a toy!"

"Don't talk about him like that!"

Jack was suddenly angry at his 'chief'. Ralph looked a little surprised at the sudden burst of rage. "W-What?" he stammered. Jack seized a small fruit and whacked it in half with his hunting knife. "You don't even know him," he seethed without looking up. Ralph fell silent, watching as Jack violently hacked at the fruit in his hands.

A littlun tugged on the corner of Maurice's shorts to get his attention. The hyper choirboy looked down. "What?" he asked. The small boy held out a nut that he was having trouble breaking. "Please can you help me?" he asked innocently. Maurice felt like just stuffing the whole nut, shell and all, right into the little kid's mouth for no particular reason other than random humor, but he sighed and took it from him. "I'm going to show you how the real men do it," he explained. He laid the nut on a rock, then used another to smash it. The shell didn't break. Maurice giggled in embarrassment. "T-That was…that was just showing you the difference between a weak little boy and a big strong man. This is how it's really done." he hastily reminded. The littlun watched intently the whole time. Still, even when Maurice crashed the rock against the nut, it wouldn't break. He got frustrated. Over and over and over again he hammered the gift of nature. With one final yell of rage, Maurice brought the rock down against the nut with incredible force. The shell burst. But because the pressure was so great (and rather inaccurately positioned), the actual nut shot out to the left and beaned Bill right on the shoulder. "OW! MAURICE!" the clumsy blonde shouted. Maurice blushed and ushered a piece of fruit into the hand of the giggling littlun instead.

Once everyone was awake, Ralph took to assigning the tasks for the day. "Robert, Harold, and Bill will have fire duty until the afternoon. Then…Roger, is it?...Maurice and Henry will take over for the evening shift. Simon and I will work on the last shelter, if anyone wants to help. Jack, you can stay up on the mountain and supervise the firewatcing, if you wish. As for everyone else—don't wander too far and keep your heads. Find fruit and nuts. If a coconut shell has no water in it, then it needs to be—" But he was cut off because the littluns had taken off running; to the jungle, to the beach, to the bathing pool. He couldn't even keep track. Simon stood up beside him. "It's alright, chief. They'll do what they're told." he assured gently. Jack let out a haughty laugh and marched through the forest. The fireboys went to their post atop the mountain.

Finally, after another hour or two of work, Ralph and Simon finished the last shelter. "Let's go swimming," little Simon suggested. "It's dreadfully hot, and I think the water will feel good after being out in the sun all day." Ralph agreed. The two made their way to the bathing pool, taking a slight shortcut through the dark green forest as a means of escaping direct sunlight once again. As Simon walked cheerfully (just a few paces behind his leader) he felt something grasp his shoulder tightly. Whirling around to see what this mysterious beast was, he gasped. Roger was staring _hard _at him. "R-Roger," Simon began, feeling a bit uneasy under the intense gaze. "You left me," Roger growled. "This morning I woke up and I was all by myself. Not even Jack was there. Do you know how frightened I was? I thought a boat had come to pick everyone up, and you all forgot about me and I was doomed forever. You. You didn't even think to let me follow you."

"R-Roge…I figured you just needed to sleep….I didn't mean to do it on purpose—"

"Then why do it? You're sticking more with Ralph now. I don't like it, honestly. It makes you different. It makes you forget me."

"…I could never forget you, Roger…"

"You only look at the 'good' things about this island. Ralph. You don't even remember the…bad things…. _Me_."

"You're not—"

"Just please don't leave me, Simon. I don't like you forgetting about me. I want things to stay how they were at home between us. But you're slipping. You're slipping to—"

"Roge, I think if anyone's slipping from something, it's you."

Roger's face fell into shock and confusion. "W-What?"

"You're slipping from your…your sanity again."

"I-I…I am not!"

"You are. Just think about all the things the nice doctor told you to do at home. Still do them here. Just don't….don't…don't leave _me_."

Simon felt tears sting his eyes, so he pulled away from his brother and hurried to catch up with Ralph. Roger stood there. Stunned. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. A swift pulse of anger flashed through him. He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes closed, and ran off into the forest to find a way to release this frustration.

Jack moved swiftly and silently as he stalked a wild pig that was currently feasting upon some grass near a large tree. Hunting knife ready, he crouched low. He sprang out of the bushes and swung his dagger viciously. Miss. The pig ran away squealing, leaving Jack lying on his belly against the cool dirt. He beat the ground with his palm. "Bloody animal!" he shouted in frustration. _They probably see me coming,_ he thought. _They expect it. So they know to run. Jack Merridew likes to take his prey by surprise…so how can I possibly sneak up on something that has better hearing than I do?_ He felt something itching the side of his cheek. Running his hand across it to brush off a pesky fly or strand of grass, he noticed that a thin layer of nectar from one of the white flowers that Simon had loved was running down his face. He rubbed it between his fingers, contemplating. _That's it!_

Jack got some of the boys (including the twins) to help him make facepaint and store it all in separate coconut shells. Pleased with himself and his great idea, he set off to find as many of his hunters as he could to get them painted up. "Bill!" he shouted. The dipsy boy was splashing in the waves with the littluns, perfectly content with acting like a five-year-old. Jack sighed. It was no use. Jack continued on through the forest, in search of anyone that would support him. "Roger!" The raven-haired boy was hiding behind a tree, closely observing Henry through the foliage. Every so often, he'd hurl a rock in near proximity to the unsuspecting crybaby. Jack smirked. This was his secret weapon. His Roger. He could take someone by surprise without dropping any hint before. "Roger!" he whispered. The boy looked up instantly. When he saw Jack, he advanced, dropping the rocks behind him. "I want you to see this," Jack said authoritatively. Willingly, Roger followed. If Simon could pick sides and forget the rest, couldn't he?

Jack showed him the different colors of facepaint he and the others had concocted. He watched in admiration as Jack painted a mask on his face. He used a puddle of water as a mirror. "You don't look half a mess," Roger murmured. Jack wasn't sure what he meant exactly, but he smiled anyway. He then turned to his friend, dipping his finger into the rusty-red clay paint. Jack drew two lines across each of Roger's cheeks, reinforcing them with black ash. He didn't use any white on the boy. "There," he said with pride. "We're hunters," Roger grinned. He had never felt so…free.

When the others saw the interesting-looking warpaint on their redheaded leader, they all wanted to join in the fun. Jack let them use the paint. They then set out in a pack to go hunting now that they were concealed by nature's own betrayal. Even Harold, Bill and Henry. The fire smoldered into nothing.

Ralph literally flew out of the pool, Simon trying to trail behind him and Piggy repeatedly shouting about a ship out in the distance. "The fire's out, Ralph!" he screamed. "They ain't gonna see us!" Ralph tried to get his socks and shoes on, knowing full well that there would be no rescue. Something inside his brain kept telling him to at least try. He waved his arms furiously, yelling for the ship to turn around. "Come back!" he screamed until his face turned purple. "Come back! Come back!" But it was no use. The tiny ship faded out into the distance.

Simon put a hand on Ralph's shoulder. "It was worth a try," he kindly suggested. But the blonde wasn't appeased. "They let the bloody fire out!" he thought aloud. Just as Piggy and Simon exchanged sad glances, a soft chant came into audibility from the forest. "Kill the pig! Cut her throat! Bash her in!" a group of voices shouted. As they drew nearer, it got even louder. Ralph was practically boiling over at this point. Especially when his rival Jack appeared, holding a bloodied knife over his head like a trophy. A dead sow hung from a beam two boys supported. "You should've been there, Ralph. There was lots of blood." Jack told him as he passed, giving a small smirk. Ralph clenched his fists. This was not the way the rules were set up. This was not the number one priority. He glared hard at the redhead who kept staring right back. Neither would back down. Simon looked from the poor dead creature to the boys who'd killed it. He felt something hurt in his heart. Because he knew that once blood was spilt on the land, there wouldn't be any returning it to the body.


	10. Confessions

**I sincerely apologize for the delay! But I hope this chapter makes up for all that time. Thank you to everyone who has left me reviews and ideas and all things of that sort! I appreciate anyone who gives my stories a read. I hope you like this chapter!**

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Jack found after several days that it was easier to hunt a pig using a large group of people. Even though he couldn't gain entire support from everyone (because some decided to stick with Ralph's rules), the number of boys that did follow his orders was sustainable enough to snatch up a decent-sized pig for dinner, then save the leftovers for the next night. Ralph was certainly not pleased with this behavior, Jack could tell. But he never refused the meat. No, it was too tempting. Simon would watch Ralph at meals. He watched him rake the bones of the chunk of meat, gleaning every edible part. Simon particularly didn't eat too much of the meat. He knew he was under scrutiny of his choir leader's eyes that deemed anyone who didn't eat of the food he presented them with "ungrateful". Simon nibbled at some of the parts he was sure were fully cooked (because quite frankly, the boys weren't amazing chefs and most of the meat was practically raw; that upset Simon's stomach). But because Piggy was often given an unfairly reduced portion, he always was willing to hand his over.

The image of Ralph hungrily tearing at his chunk of meat made Simon uneasy. He knew that the blonde boy and the redhead would always, always butt heads, but something about seeing him so possessed over the meat frightened Simon. He appeared vulnerable. Dependent on Jack. Living off of the death of an innocent creature. On this particular night of feast, Ralph was particularly hungry after having to tend the fire in Harold and Robert's absences (they'd gone on the hunt with Jack). Simon felt a bit queasy. He glanced over at Roger, who was now not even sitting near him at meals anymore, and met shockingly cold gray eyes. Watching him. Making sure he didn't…well, God knows what he was watching for. Simon got the eerie feeling that he was making sure no one stepped out of line. And Jack seemed to be enabling that.

The twins, Sam and Eric, decided that they'd rather eat fruit that night at dinner. Together they sampled a small amount of meat, but reached for some mangos. Roger grabbed Sam's wrist immediately. "What are you doing?" Jack asked. Sam arched his eyebrows in surprise. "I think I'd like to just have some fruit—"

"—We're rather full from snacking all day." Eric added.

"And we just think—"

"—it would be alright to—"

"—save some room so our tummies don't hurt." they finished together.

Roger growled a bit, making Simon shiver. His brother _never_ acted like this at home. "Let them be ungrateful losers, Roge. Next time we have a feast, they won't be served any meat. Maybe that'll teach them to eat what they're given and not question authority." Jack said coldly. Roger released Sam's wrist, but glared at their identicalness. Jack rewarded him with a gentle rub on the back, as if he were petting a watchdog. Suddenly something inside Simon sent a block of lead right to his stomach. This wasn't right. He stood up shakily, muttering an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom, and hurried away into the forest.

Simon hugged his arms around himself as he navigated the rough creepers to his quiet spot—his special spot. There, he threw himself onto the ground in front of the big mossy log. The tears fell. Long, silent sobs wracked his body as he interpreted what was happening: too many people were giving in. This was a good island, it really was. But the boys were beginning to contaminate it with orders, with sides, with anger, with bloodshed. The thing that hurt most was watching Roger's decline. He felt _so incredibly guilty_—the boy didn't have the special medicine he took at home anymore. All he needed was for someone to be there for him whenever he needed it. And Simon had let him down; he'd gone straight to making friends when he should've been reaching out to his brother. There was only one person that Simon cared about more than anyone else—and that was Roger. But he was gone now. He'd turned to the only other person that would give him comfort in his confusing time. Jack. Jack and Roger were always close. Why hadn't Simon foreseen this? Oh, he _knew_ Jack was just going to use him to gain power—he'd enabled this; for Roger to get used.

And Ralph! Simon could not believe that Ralph wouldn't boycott the meat to prove a point that he didn't want to live in this kind of society where two political parties battled for popularity. Instead he'd succumbed to Jack's enticement. That was that. Simon felt another shudder course through him as he thought about all of his choir friends having to struggle between sides—everyone had always feared Jack, so they really didn't have any choice as to who to listen to. Why couldn't they just see that the only way for rescue was to obey Ralph, hear him—

Suddenly, Simon heard the leaves rustling behind him. This was impossible—how could anyone find him in his special secret spot? Simon whirled around to see who had come after him. Please don't let it be Roger….anyone but him…

But no, the shape of the boy was much too tall and filled out to be the scrawny little thing. "Simon?" a quiet voice asked. Simon pushed the tears away from his cheeks in an attempt to be brave. He hiccupped a little, delirious with sadness, and faintly whispered, "Jesus?" He wasn't sure if his religious figure was actually coming to save him, but he sure was hoping he was right. The voice chuckled. "I don't think I'm Jesus." it said. The person knelt down beside Simon, putting his elbows on the big log. "Sure wish I was, though. Then I'd get all the angels in Heaven to come save us. And I could probably do some pretty neat magic tricks too." The amount of thoughtless babbling immediately gave the figure away to be Maurice. Simon felt himself giggle, not even sure how he was feeling anymore. He sighed. "I know what you're thinking," Maurice murmured after some silence. "And I'm not even Jesus, I swear." Simon put his head on his arms which were supported by the log. "I don't think anyone does…" he whimpered.

"No, really. I can tell. It's Roger, isn't it?"

"…Partly,"

"Majority. I know you look at him a lot. You can't help it. You care about him."

"I care about his mental state—"

"And you care about who he's friends with."

"W-Well…yes…I don't want him to be in any harm…"

"You're afraid for him."

"Please, Maurice. I just don't really want to talk about this."

"You always told him that talking about it is the first step towards solving the problem."

There was a pause here in which Simon started sobbing again and Maurice shifted a little closer to him. "Hey," the hyper boy said gently. "It's alright to be like this. I'm sure if he saw you like this he'd fix himself in a minute."

"He could never do that."

"Why not? He changed so much at home—"

"He was on medication that made him normal at home!"

Simon had shouted this, and he didn't know why. He didn't feel angry towards Maurice. Nor was he frustrated. He felt as if he just maybe needed to get this out—tell someone the truth about his brother so he wouldn't be fighting the battle alone. "You can't tell _anyone_," Simon whispered. "But it's true. Roger was seeing a therapist back at home, and when that stopped working…after…you know, he ran away…the doctor started putting him on tranquilizers and medication that made his mind slow down. He had to take it every single day, twice a day. It was my job when we got on the plane to make sure he followed through with this. But when the plane went down, his medication was lost in the wreckage. He's off it now. He can't have it. That's why he's acting so different—he can't…he isn't…"

"I think you're just scared for him. You're afraid of…are you afraid of him?"

"We fought a few days ago because he accused me of taking sides and forgetting about him. He doesn't know what he's saying anymore—he doesn't make sense."

"Maybe he meant that he knew something was missing from his life—his medication—and did not know how to express it. But he recognized it had to do with you. So he blamed you ambiguously because he couldn't quite grasp what was missing."

"I don't know, Maurice. I feel like Jack's comforting him and giving him what he wants to keep him as a pet."

"Yeah, I feel like Jack and Ralph are competing for followers too."

"…Maurice…can I ask you something?"

"'Course,"

"…Who's side…well…which…which side are you on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…the rescue side of Ralph's…or the adjustment side of Jack's?"

Maurice blinked for a moment, thinking of how to answer this. Simon had never been one to bring up politics. He showed no interest in the subject or no personal preference. He had always been the one to qualify everything and make it seem like there was a winner all-around. "A side?" he thought aloud. "Well, I suppose I don't have a side."

"But you tend the fire when Ralph tells you. And you eat meat too."

"I eat the pig because I'm hungry. That's all. Plus Bill and I are working to gather up some spices and flavors to add to it so that it isn't so bland. It's a hoot having him try it and gauge how spicy the saucy is based on the redness of his ears. But anyway, I tend the fire because I still want to go home."

"So…it's not like it's one or the other?"

"No, I don't see it like that at all. Same goes for you. You can eat Jack's meat, but still be friends with Ralph. It isn't delegated."

Simon felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. He didn't know why this sounded good to him; maybe it was the hope that Roger wasn't completely going astray from him. Maybe it was the fear of how others viewed him. But he felt the sudden need to just reach over and hug Maurice. Through the years, Simon had been teased by this boy and mocked—yet now he felt closer to him than ever. "H-How did you find me here?" Simon asked as Maurice hugged him back. "I just watched you go, then followed a little farther back. Why were you coming here anyway?" he answered. Simon sniffled. "Just to have some quiet thinking space. I like this place here. It's nice. I pray here sometimes and pretend I'm in the church back at home. Do you…maybe want to say a quick prayer with me right now?"

Maurice agreed to. Both boys bowed their heads reverently and folded their hands. "Dear God," Simon began softly. "Please protect us all here. We must've been placed here by You for a reason—show us why that is. And keep us all safe. I worry about every boy, even the littluns. Please bless Ralph, Jack, Maurice, Bill, Robert, Harold, Henry, me, and Roger. Especially Roger. Watch out for him, I beg of You. Oh, and please bless all the littluns too. …Alright, Maurice. You can take your turn now." Maurice sat up a little straighter, thinking about what he was going to say. "God, please bless all those people Simon read off, and send us a way to get home. Amen." He and Simon sat back and paused for a moment. Suddenly, Maurice thought of something. He bowed his head quickly and folded his hands one more time, uttering a quick, "Oh, and if You think of it, can You please find a way to get rid of those blisters on the bottoms of Henry's feet from when I made him do a dance on the smoldering fire? I'm sorry about it. But he doesn't stop complaining, the crybaby. Thanks, Jesus." And that concluded their prayer.

Maurice nudged Simon. "Come on, it's near bedtime. Let's go back to camp to get some sleep. Bill and me have fire duty, and it I'm late Ralph's going to kill me." he said. Simon stood up with him and made his way through the jungle to the shore again. He felt a little better after having talking to Maurice about all of his worries. But the stab of regret sliced his chest as he saw Jack carrying a sleeping Roger away from the fire and into a shelter.


End file.
